


The Hawk and The Dove

by orphan_account



Series: Mr. And Mrs. Barton Verse [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad at Everything, Basically, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint whump, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Natasha/Bruce, Don't Mess With Pepper, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Major Original Character(s), Mention of Loki - Freeform, Mention of Thor, Mild Language, Minor Original Character(s), More Tags Later?, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Pepper is a Motherhen, Protective Avengers, Protective Phil Coulson, She'll Kick Your Ass, eventually, everyone is a BAMF, everyone ships it, if i'm not lazy, lots of tags, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton has always been a trouble magnet. Everyone knows it. It has never been a huge deal since the incident with Loki, but Clint knows everyone has been watching him extra carefully. When the opportunity for a solo mission comes his way, he is more then ready to prove that he doesn't need to be babysat anymore. Sure, Natasha's always had his back, but Clint can take care of himself. </p><p>The mission goes south faster then anyone would have guessed. Clint and a team of SHIELD agents are trapped at an A.I.M. facility and are being held hostage. The Avengers are there and Phil has the outside situation under control, but inside, Clint has to look out for the rest of them if anyone is to make it out alive.</p><p>First Marvel-related fic! I'm pretty bad at summaries, but please give it a try!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hawk in the Coop

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. All mistakes are mine!
> 
> Sorry it's so short! I just had to get it written before the little thing disappeared on me. The next chapter will be longer!
> 
> Avengers and Marvel-related things belong to Marvel. Unfortunately.

 Clint had claimed the center of one of Stark's comfortable couches in the hopes that no one would sit by him and sit somewhere else. He stretched and plopped his booted feet on the coffee table and sunk into the warm leather backing. The largest bowl he could find in the kitchen was balanced in his lap, full of buttery popcorn. Clint turned on the flat screen TV and flipped through the thousand and one channels until he found an interesting documentary on birds of prey. A massive hawk was soaring above a valley before the camera switched to a group of adorable looking furry rodents. The large bird swooped down and snatched one of the critters from off its feet. The animal squealed in alarm before the documentary cut to commercials.

            "What are you watching?" A calm, measured voice asked from behind Barton's head. He immediately knew who it was. Very few people could sneak up on Hawkeye and Phil Coulson always made use of the fact. The SHIELD agent walked over and sat down on Clint's left side. "I could smell the popcorn from the lab," Phil explained as he tried to sneak a handful of the salty goodness.           

            Clint slapped his hand away. "No popcorn for you. Dead guys don't get popcorn." Phil's eyes laughed even if he physically did not.           

            "Does that mean I can have popcorn then?" Natasha and Bruce seemed to have followed the smell too. Bruce had a small smile on his face when Natasha dropped to the couch and pulled him down with her. "I could blackmail you-" Her voice dropped off as a mischievous smirk spread across her pretty features. Clint immediately handed the bowl to his partner. Bruce chuckled and Phil adopted a slight pout. 

            The documentary was back on and Clint allowed his attention to be drawn to it. Bruce and Phil didn't seem to care about what they were watching, their interest currently being held by the popcorn bowl. Clint slapped another one of Coulson's hands away. Natasha began looking bored a few minutes in and snatched the remote away from the bird. Before he could protest, she had already found a reasonable replacement. The partners began a game of keep away while the two others took the opportunity to finish up the popcorn. 

            It wasn't long before the rest of the Avengers team was drawn to the living room by the occasional Russian and English curse. Tony walked in with Pepper and burst into laughter at the sight of the two assassins fighting over the remote. Pepper merely put her hands on her hips and glared at them. Phil and Bruce had since slunk away. It was always best to stay out of the occasional wrestling matches between Hawkeye and Black Widow.          

            Captain America watched from the doorway, unsure of what to do. As the unofficial team leader, it was his duty to break up little things like this. Wasn't it? He didn't have to worry for much longer. Clint suddenly sat up and with a final glare at his triumphant opponent, switched on his SHIELD communicator.

            "Agent Barton, we need you and Romanov at the nearest base immediately."   

            "Is there a situation, sir?"

            The voice sighed in annoyance and was gone. Clint rolled his eyes and signaled to Natasha to get moving. The rest of the team followed them to their rooms. "You have a mission?" Coulson questioned when they returned to the living room. Neither of the assassins replied, so he took that as a yes. He watched with a slight frown as they checked over their gear. Not being Barton and Romanov's handler anymore was certainly a bitch. Even though Coulson had taken his old position after the Loki incident, Fury had refused to let him become a handler again. Apparently someone more 'disciplined' and not so 'chatty' was needed for the two agents.

            Clint snapped his bow into place and doubled checked his arrows. Once satisfied, he made sure he had all of his hidden knives. Natasha changed the magazines out for her weapons then nodded to her partner. Once they had a mission and were focused, words were rarely needed. Natasha snatched one of the many key rings from Tony's grasp and tossed it to Clint. They hurried to the billionaire's garage and hopped in a sleek, black Mustang with tinted windows.

♦                                  ♦                                       ♦                                ♦                            ♦          

           With Clint driving, it took them maybe ten minutes to get to the SHIELD base. Waiting outside for them, was a man dressing in a pressed black suit and tie. Natasha was the first to climb out of the car. She directed a sharp nod towards the figure. Clint managed to hold back a growl when he saw him. The partners cautiously made their way to the man. Once they were about a foot away, the man turned on his heel and led them inside the compound. The man held a door open to a conference room right off the main hallway. He immediately left once the two Avengers were inside.

            "Looks like the high and mighty Stonewell couldn't show his face today." Hawkeye snorted at the serious tone Natasha had spoken in.

"When does he ever?" 

Natasha plopped down in a chair with a oomph. "Good point."

They waited in silence for another ten minutes or so before another man stalked in. His wavy, light brown hair barely reached his ears and his dead green eyes were capable of an iron stare that weren't easily escaped. He was dressed like the first man, but with a dark blue tie. A little silver pin with the SHIELD logo was over his heart. Clint barely managed to cover his huff of laughter with a sneeze. Agent Nathan Stonewell was not on Clint's list of favorite people ever. Actually, if Clint had to choose one person to hate (and it had to be a human), it would be Stonewell.

 "Agent Barton, Agent Romanov." He greeted before launching straight into their mission. "Two teams of SHIELD agents are going to clear up a rumor about an A.I.M. laboratory that supposedly is trying to recreate an energy source similar to the Tesseract. We have heard that this laboratory is at one of two locations, hence the two teams. Your mission is simple, accompany the teams to their destination and assist in anyway you deem necessary or for the good of the mission. If any data is found regarding an experiment similar to what I have told you, then you are to retrieve the data and turn it over to me. Any questions?"

Clint raised his hand and returned the agent's glare with a look of pure innocence. "We're splitting up for this assignment?" That earned an eye roll from the clearly frustrated agent, once done being dramatic, Stonewell nodded. Hawkeye one, Stonewell zero.

"You are dismissed. Your respective quinjets will be taking off in five."

Natasha and Clint shared a look before jumping to their feet and hurrying to the air strip. Natasha spotted the groups of SHIELD workers first. She walked over to the closest team and was immediately giving a rundown of the operation. Clint jogged up to his team just as they began to board. The agent in charge of the team snapped at a younger officer to give Clint the details. He sat in the seat next to the nervous woman and waited until the quinjet's engines had become a low roar to turn his attention to her. Her dark green eyes revealed her wariness of the man next to her. 

"The mission details?" He reminded the officer once he figured she'd stared long enough.

Her gaze sharpened and she gave him an apologetic smile. "Right, sorry, sir. We are heading to one of two locations where an A.I.M. laboratory is supposedly. The orders are to find the facility, take it, and retrieve any information. A relatively ease operation." She turned her attention back to her tightly clasped hands.

Clint looked around the quinjet then studied the passengers. The leading agent had a sour expression on his face and the five other officers were either quietly talking or checking their gear. When the woman next to him sifted to open something out of his sight, Clint caught a flash of dark red. A red medical cross had been sown to her left sleeve. He thought about poking her, but decided against it. He cleared his throat, which worked well enough in getting the officer's attention. "Medical?" He pointed to the symbol. The woman only nodded before turning back to what she had been doing. "Why would a mission like this need medical personnel?"

The woman looked back up at him and, seeing the she wouldn't be able to ignore his question, replied, "There isn't a lot of information that we have to go on. It could be that if they really did make some kind of energy thing, it might have caused some serious set backs. I'm only here for an emergency. Well, that and I had trained to be a techie, so I guess they get two birds with one stone with me." She smiled and gave a huff of laughter.

Hawkeye nodded, allowing her to finish whatever it was she was doing. He let the details of his mission drown out everything else. It seems that maybe this mission wouldn't be as easy as it seemed.


	2. A Dove's Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Chapter two! I had been planning on updating on Sunday, but my muse decided that was way to long. Let's just say that there may have been a threat (involving brownies), so I wrote this as soon as I could. 
> 
> I, as unfortunate as it is, do NOT own anything Avengers/Marvel.

             "Hawkeye?" Natasha poked him in the side. "Hawkeye."

            "Nat, be quiet. We can't risk scaring him off." Hawkeye gently pushed his partner away. Natasha made a pouting face before looking back at the skyscraper. She narrowed her eyes for a moment before pulling a pair of binoculars up. Hawkeye adjusted the arrow on his bowstring and settled himself back against the tree trunk.

            "There," hissed Natasha. She pointed to a man out on the roof.

            "Got 'im. Tell me when." 

            Natasha suddenly turned to him and tapped his shoulder. "Hawkeye, come on." Clint shrugged his shoulders, giving the Russian a glare.

            "What are you doing?" Natasha merely poked him again and sighed. "Nat!" She glared right back at him and smacked the back of his head.

                               ♦                                                    ♦                                          ♦                                                  ♦                                             ♦

            Clint slowly became aware of where he was, but didn't open his eyes. Quinjets always made him feel like dozing off. Of course, he usually doesn't fall asleep unless Natasha had nagged until he admitted defeat. He really hadn't meant to nod off, but the distant engines' purr and the quiet chatter must have just gotten to him. Someone snorted. "You do realize he could kill you a hundred different ways in his sleep, right?"

            "Really? Stop-he'll wake up and strangle you." A softer voice chided, but was laced with amusement. There was a gentle tap on his shoulder again. "Hawkeye?"

            After the third tap, Clint's eyes flew open and he sat up. A group of people were around him and at his sudden movement, leapt back. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty." A few of the surrounding people snickered. There was one person a little out of his sight, the only one still close to him. When he quickly glanced around to make sure of where he was, he found himself looking into forest green eyes. Clint felt like he was starting to drown in them.

            "Stonewell," he growled quietly. Stonewell jerked back. Clint glared at his handler then blinked. The green eyed agent was gone, replaced by the young medical officer. She had an amused, but puzzled expression on her face.

            "You were pretty out of it," she commented when he just continued to stare. "Gillians says ETA in ten." Clint nodded, the only sign that he had heard her. The rest of the team had wandered back to their seats and were starting to rifle through some equipment.

            The medic plopped down next to him and busied herself by checking the medical supplies. Clint stood and stretched before double checking his own gear. His bow felt good in his hands and snapped together almost silently. Quiver full of arrows? Check. Knives? Check. Sunglasses? Clint dug through his bow case. Where did his sunglasses go? He whipped around, only to give the medic a funny look when she made a squeak of surprise. His sunglasses were laying across her lap. There was a faint pink mark on her right cheek. She handed him the sunglasses with a sloppy smile. He ducked his head in what could be taken as an apology before returning to his task.

Once satisfied, Clint settled himself against the wall to watch the rest of the team prepare. The agent in charge, Gillians, was busy checking his magazine clip. It took a few seconds, but the agent seemed to sense the assassin's alert gaze. He returned the look with a suspicious glare, before returning his attention back to his weapon. Clint heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded something like 'trust' and 'traitor', but he merely ignored the comment. The few others were double and triple checking various equipment and their own firearms. They were quietly talking and every once in a while a glance was cast in his direction. Clint figured they were still chuckling about the nap incident. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw that the medic was reorganizing the medical supplies for what must be the hundredth time. Her hands were shaking, a clear sign of her nervousness. A mumbled curse slipped past her lips when she dropped a container of creamy gel.

Clint stepped over and snatched up the bottle. "Your first mission?" She accepted it with an embarrassed smile.

"That obvious?" She let out a quiet laugh. "I've had agents die on my table. I really shouldn't be this nervous."  

Clint took up his position against the wall again. With a shrug, he commented, "Having people die in the field is certainly different." She seemed to shiver at the thought. 

"Honestly, I don't like seeing anyone die in general."

Clint raised an eyebrow at that. "And yet, you're a doctor. I'm sure you see more blood and death in the infirmary then everyone here."

"Doesn't mean I do like it. Besides, I can try and save people when I have all my equipment. I don't know if I can truly do as much good with a first aid kit."

"Is saving those lives enough? The blood isn't on your hands if they do die."

That earned him an angry glare. "Don't you feel guilty about all those people that _you_ killed while under Loki's control?" She growled before her eyes suddenly widened in shock. She clamped a hand over her mouth. "I- _oh_ -I...I-"

Clint had stiffened slightly at her words, but was saved from the conversation by Gillians' shout. "We're gonna be arriving at the air field any minute now. Make sure all the gear's ready. We're landing a good few miles out of the perimeter. Hoofing it's our only option, so be ready." Clint and the medic slipped away from each other, leaving the tense and uncomfortable space. 

♦                                   ♦                                ♦                               ♦                                   ♦

Clint shoulder his quiver as the door lowered. The rest of the team was milling around him, full of restless energy. Clint only felt the chilling calm that was always present at the beginning of a mission. His focus was sharp and all his senses were alert. Gillians was the first to step up to the door and jump out. The rest of the team followed, leaving Clint to jump out last. The second his boots hit the ground,  he was feeling the beginnings of an adrenaline rush. The team was spread out, each member already running tests to search for anything with an energy level that was near the same as the Tesseract. A flash of brown hair drew Clint's attention to the medic as she pulled her hair into a ponytail before rapidly typing on a laptop. Gillians waited until everyone reported that they hadn't gotten any hits. He pointed to the north and ordered, "There's a road two and a half miles from our current position. Two of you will have to go and bring back a truck or something."

"Good, 'cause there's no way we can carry all this," someone muttered. A few voices rose up in agreement. 

Gillians ordered two of the agents not currently face to face with a computer screen to go get a vehicle. They hurried off, not exactly looking all too happy with their assignment. Clint strolled around the group, stretching muscles that had begun to cramp with on the plane. Gillian had jumped back aboard the quinjet to speak with the pilots. Everyone else was snapping at each other as they tried to find any evidence that there was indeed an A.I.M. facility anywhere nearby.  The medic was in the middle of an argument about search formulas. She snarled at both of the men to be _quiet_ and to just get working. Clint could tell that their earlier conversation was digging at her. He chided himself for starting to become distracted and trained his focus back to his task at hand. 

Gillians jumped back down from the aircraft and gave a short wave to the pilots. The engines started with a thundering roar. It didn't take long for it to be air born and swiftly sinking against the horizon. Gillians watched it go with an irritated gleam in his eyes. He strode up to Hawkeye and stepped in front of the assassin.

"Agent Gillians, right?"

Gillians just narrowed his eyes and made an annoyed sound. "I don't trust you. I don't want you here. And I don't want you messing up the operation. Do anything that might so much as give one of the team _a splinter_ and I will _not_ hesitate to put a bullet through those pretty greys of yours. Understand?"

Clint shrugged with only seemed to anger the man more. "I _said_ , do you understand, Agent Barton?"

"I thought I was suppose to go by Hawkeye on operations like this." 

Clint fought the smirk that was threatening to appear when Gillians' face began to turn pink. The man gave a loud huff and stormed away, much to the assassin's amusement. Once the agent was gone, Clint smirked and began his walk again. He didn't notice the medic roll her eyes or the tiny smile that graced her lips.

 

 


	3. Hawk's Hunting Perch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT:Sorry about the cut off chapter! I've fixed it.
> 
> Shout out to the much appreciated commenters (is that a word? commenters?)  
> Emily-I hope this continues to interest you!  
> Framlingem-Thanks for the formatting tip! Hopefully this is better.  
> Without further ado, here's chapter three! You get to truly meet the medic that Clint keeps talking to! At least, you get her name, but that's good enough, right? Chapter four is in the works right now, but I have it almost done, so that should be up soon.
> 
> Don't own anything Marvel/Avengers

 Gillians was not happy when the team had finally gotten their transportation. The two officers who were sent off to find a vehicle returned with sheepish grins and a large black SUV. One of the two tossed the keys to Gillians with a quiet, "Careful. It's a rental."

It took maybe twenty minutes to get everything packed into the large vehicle. Gillians climbed behind the wheel, leaving the rest of the team to fight over shotgun. Clint, of course, had slid into the seat when everyone was distracted. The disappointed winner sat in the back with the equipment, much to the others' joy. Gillians turned the key and the SUV let out a monstrous snarl. They were immediately on their way. Gillians was focusing on driving within the speed limit. The medic decided to try and get some ideas about what they could be looking for, peppering the two vehicle scouts with various questions.

"So there's a concrete parking center that is kind of in the center of the city." One man offered, "It has an okay view. That might work as a good lay low spot. I don't think its really used at all."

The medic nodded in agreement and began passing directions up to the front. Gillians had only smiled when she began telling him where to go. Clint relaxed in his seat, letting the others figure this one out. He was busy taking in the buildings that they passed. He'd seen enough A.I.M. facilities to have an idea on what they might be looking for. Though, honestly at this point, Clint really didn't think they'd find anything. Natasha was probably having better luck. Gillians gave him a look, but turned his attention back to the road when the medic yelped out, "Watch the road!" He swerved and barely made the final turn.

The SUV slowly crawled up the spiraling road to the second to last floor up. Everyone piled out and helped heave the equipment from the back. Gillians had a cluster of computers put together in the center of the parking lot and the rest of the equipment spread out from there. A few sensors and energy readers were carefully put outside. Once everything was set up, the bustle of activity died down. The medic was once again organizing the medical supplies, Gillians and the other agents were pouring over incoming data, and Hawkeye had found himself a comfortable position to watch the outside world from. An old building across the street caught his eye.

It was run-down and must have been white years ago. The building had been an office for a mildly successful insurance company and had only been left to rot a few years ago. Clint narrowed his eyes at a neon orange and black sign that was in a window on the ground floor. 'Construction: DO NOT ENTER'. He saw a group of men and women in hard hats come out the door and scatter to their respective vehicles. A few minutes later, a group of new people in hard hats arrived and went into the building. It won't have seemed suspicious if it weren't for the fact that there were no noises that usually accompany a construction crew-especially one that large. Clint thought about telling Gillians about it, but decided that it might just be better to watch for a little longer.

Clint heard the sounds of light footsteps coming towards him. He didn't have to look to know it was the medic settling herself down next to him. She seemed to be trying to think of something to say. "You don't have to apologize." Clint was a little surprised at how gentle he sounded. She obviously was too, since she had taken a breath and hadn't released it yet. 

"Corie." 

Clint couldn't help the small smile that tugged on his lips. "Clint."

That got a laugh from Corie. "Clint Barton, code name Hawkeye. The Avengers' archer and assassin."

"Seems you know me pretty well." 

"I have a nephew who is in complete love with all the Avengers. He told me he wants to marry Black Widow."

That forced a chuckle from the man. "And how old is he?"

"Almost ten." Corie's voice held amusement and just a hint of the love she has for her nephew.

They lapsed into silence. Clint's eyes never strayed from the old office and Corie was called away.

♦                                                 ♦                                                    ♦                                                        ♦                                                 ♦    

Five times Clint saw the group of workers switch. By the sixth time, he figured his hunch was right. Standing and stretching, he made his way to the mass of electronics. Everyone was glued to a screen, blue light casting their face in unnatural shadows. Sometimes someone frowned or growled at the screen and one guy even hit his monitor in frustration. Gillians was farthest away, peering over Corie's shoulder. He was spouting questions that the medic would calmly answer in the simple, brief sentences.

"Gillians," Clint called. He was still weaving his way through the computers. The agent didn't look up. "I've spotted nearby activity. Across the street, old office building." Gillians shot up right and sped to Hawkeye's former position. Corie looked up briefly, following the agent with her eyes, but turned back to her screen.  Gillians hurried back over to them. 

He shared a look with Clint. "Think they're A.I.M.?"

"Believe so-"

"We haven't gotten any hits on an energy source," Corie snapped suddenly. "This is all very sensitive equipment. We'd have found something by now if it were close, especially if it was next door."

"What if its underground?" Clint proposed.

Corie cocked her head a little to the left and adopted a thoughtful expression. Gillians was beginning to pace back and forth behind her. "If its far enough down, then that could explain the lack of results." Gillian looked between the two of them and seemed to be agreeing. 

"Then it looks like we've hit buried treasure. Get the team together. I'll contact SHIELD." Gillians began fiddling with a radio on his belt as he walked away. Corie stood up and went off to get everyone. While he waited, Clint whipped out his rather annoying Stark issue phone. Natasha had sent him a text an hour ago saying that her team hadn't found anything. Tony and Steve had been bickering over a group text, probably over some 'old man' comment at Steve's expense.  Corie tapped him on the shoulder once everyone had been gotten close. Apparently the team had been eavesdropping, so Clint didn't have much to explain. When he was done, everyone waited in silence for Gillians to come back. After ten minutes or so, Gillians walked back over and took charge.

"Our target is an office building-yes, the one across the street. It appears that there is a shift change every three and a half hours. We'll have to get inside the building after a switch. We'll wait until its darker. The less public notice, the better. What will we need? If you can carry it, then it can come. There is reason to suspect that the facility itself is underground. That means there must be an elevator or something to take the enemy below. Keep your eyes peeled for it. Hill wants us to get any information we can. SHIELD will be dropping by in two days for a torch and burn to completely eradicate the compound. Any questions? Good. Let's get moving." Corie got the team's attention and set them to sort out the necessary gear. Gillians, surprisingly, jumped in to help. Clint returned to his perch.

Another group of workers were switched out.

                                                                  ♦                                                      ♦                                                         ♦                                                           ♦

It really wasn't all that hard to get in. The doors weren't even locked. Bad sign? Six hundred percent likely, but at this point everyone was just thankful they had managed to get everything inside without any unwanted attention. Clint, bow in hand and the familiar weight of his quiver slung across his back, carefully stepped in the building's lobby-well, at this point in its decay, you could only assume it was the lobby. Construction gear littered the floor and a few of those insanely bright lights were heaped together in a corner. Plastic covered the remaining furniture with a thick layer of dust. Specks of the floating dust were highlighted by weak beams of moonlight that had managed to get past the grime caking the front window. The only sign that there was a constant flow of people were the footprints on the dusty tiling. The team followed the trail of eerie steps. Clint pushed plastic flaps out of his way and found himself in an office. If anything, the room's state was equal, if not worse, then the lobby.  

Gillians ordered everyone to spread out. Corie and Clint were told to check the bottom level. Corie walked around, one of her fancy devices in hand. Clint took a more simple approach and walked around the level with one ear to the wall, occasionally knocking. "Shh!" Corie sent a glare at the archer. "Can't you be any quieter?"

Clint had paused at her words, one fist inches from the peeling wallpaper. "Like this?" He rapped his knuckles against the wall, making an even louder noise. Corie rolled her eyes and wandered into a different room. 

It took a good twenty or so minutes before Corie stuck her head out of the women's bathroom and hissed, "Clint!" 

"Found it?"

"There's a damn elevator in the bathroom." Clint hesitated at the entrance before mentally shrugging and hurrying to the medic's side. This isn't the first time he's been the ladies room. Corie was carefully removing some loose tiles. A metal box was revealed and Corie pounced at it. Clint looked over her shoulder. Colorful buttons and wires were the only thing inside, but Corie's face had lit up, so he assumed that it was what they were looking for. "It was shielded really well. The energy doesn't even emit a pulse." 

There was a quiet ding and part of the wall tiles began to break apart. The new section of tiles slid backwards and out of view, revealing a dark, cramped space. Corie gave Clint a triumphant smile which he returned. While the medic began relaying what they had found over the comm system, Clint stepped into the elevator. The floor levels went from L, probably the lobby, to U8. "Wonderful, only eight floors to painstaking search through." Clint grumbled. He heard footsteps and backed out of the tiny space. Gillians was the first of the rest of the team to reach them. He barely spared the archer and medic a glance as he poked his head into the elevator and began examining the interior. The rest of the team following soon after. 

They managed to pile into the elevator, equipment and all, though it certainly wasn't the most comfortable fit. Gillians stared at the floor levels before punching in the last floor. Almost immediately, they began to descend with the added bonus of cliche, cheesy music. A few snickers from the team and someone whispered, "Only at an evil laboratory." Gillians shushed them with a glare. It only took a few minutes to reach their destination, but it felt like forever. Everyone was brimming with restless energy. Clint squeezed out first and stretched while the rest of them came tumbling out. Once his legs weren't so cramped, he took a quick survey of the area. The slight noise that the team caused must have been heard by a guard, one who was in no rush judging by the nearby footsteps. By the time the woman had come around the corner, an arrow was waiting. It plunged into her neck and dropped her quietly. Gillians gave the archer a nod and drew his pistol, signalling the team to do the same. Corie's arms were full of gear, so everyone stuck next to her. 

A few hallways and guards later, they found what looked like the control room. Monitors lined the walls and a few broken security cameras lay broken on a plastic desk. The room was washed in a saturated blue light and was surprisingly large. Corie began setting her equipment up, not letting anyone help. She snapped at the first person to volunteer to go shoot himself. Head down in embarrassment, the man returned to his buddy's side. "Don't worry, the doc's always grumpy when she's working." It didn't seem to cheer the agent up. Corie plopped herself into the only chair in the room and started the hacking software. Gillians watched for a long minute before getting restless. 

He grabbed Clint's arm when the archer walked by. "I need you here. We'll handle any guards. Just make sure that data is uploaded and in SHIELD's hands." The agent turned to the other team members and gave them quiet instructions. They filed out, leaving Clint with the testy medic. He tried, "Do we need anything else? I think I could get every-"

"Then do that," Corie growled without taking her eyes from the screens. Clint muttered under his breath and leaned against the wall, one eye on her and one on the single door.

 

♦                                                        ♦                                               ♦                                           ♦ 

It took twenty minutes for the hacking software to work. Corie finally relaxed and leaned back in her chair. She dug around in her jacket pockets, producing a USB drive and plugged it in to a console. A grey bar appeared on the monitors with a large '1%' next to it. "It'll take awhile," Corie apologized, breaking the silence. She spun around to look at Clint. "Do you think they really tried to recreate the Tesseract?"

Clint shrugged. "No idea. I wouldn't put it past 'em though."

They lapsed back into silence. The bar slowly began to fill up with little blue blocks. It took over an hour to get to fifty percent. Another twenty minutes and it had reached sixty-nine percent. The gunfire started at eighty-two percent. Clint knew the difference between the SHIELD issued Glocks and what sounded like a semi-auto SIG Saucer 226. By eighty-seven, it had began to creep closer. Clint desperately hoped that the SHIELD agents would draw the A.I.M. agents away from the control room, but when had things every gone as he had hoped? The Avenger slid an arrow from his quiver and set it on his bowstring. Corie had looked up at his movement and silently drew her firearm and carefully placed it in her lap. The safety had already been off for the past ten minutes. The gunfire ceased when the download had reached one hundred percent. Corie tugged the USB drive out and tossed it to Clint. He snatched it and slid it into his pocket.

Without warning, the ceiling moaned. A shriek tore through the compound. The ceiling was caving in! Clint lunged towards Corie and grabbed her arm. He yanked the woman from her chair and pulled her across the room. The ceiling began to break apart, little bits of plaster raining down on them. Corie hissed when a large chunk of a metal meshing clipped her shoulder. They didn't make it very far before Clint felt Corie jerked from his grasp. He whipped around to search for her, but ended up having to duck out of the way of more falling debris. There was a sharp yelp of pain to his left. He tried to make his way towards the noise, but was stopped short as a heavy chunk of plaster collided with the back of his skull. Clint crumpled at the sudden impact, face first in the dust and rubble. As more material pounded against his unprotected body, white flashed married his vision. The white eventually gave way to a pain free darkness. 

 

  


End file.
